Father Ted and the Army Chaplain
by A.A. Pessimal
Summary: Bishop Brennan has hatched another diabolical plot to make life difficult on Craggy Island. A fourth misfit priest is on his way to join the lads - and this one doesn't just believe in muscular Christianity. He wants it armed to the teeth. Many "feck"s.
1. Chapter 1

_**Note for those who do not dwell on Craggy Island, nor indeed on its neighbour Rugged Island. **_ Father Ted is probably the greatest and funniest sitcom to come out of Ireland and is much-loved in Irealnd, Britain, and those parts of North America with a grown-up sense of humour. The adventures of three Catholic priests exiled to a remote West of Ireland parish for various misdemeanours is a _tour de farce_ of surreal comedy, gently sending up not only Ireland and the Irish, but also their attitude towards a Roman Catholic church sometimes suspected of being distant, out of touch and even corrupt. The TV series owes a lot to Monty Python and to the home-grown surreal farces of Flann O'Brien. Indeed, what might Flann O'Brien say to seeing this fanfic archived under the heading of _**British Comedy?**_

_**Dedicated to the memory of Dermot Morgan (Father Ted Crilly)1952-1998. **_

**Father Ted**: the lost episodes that can now, alas, only be made in Heaven.

_**Episode One: The Army Chaplain. **_

_**(Scene: **__ the Parochial House, Craggy Island. The bedroom shared by FATHER TED CRILLY and FATHER DOUGAL MAGUIRE. As the show opens, it is early morning. Both priests are sleeping. FATHER TED is talking in his sleep.)_

TED:- (_sleepy_) And I believe that under a more liberal Pope with a more relaxed attitude towards contraception, the Nolan Sisters would never have been allowed to happen….

(_Suddenly_, FATHER DOUGAL _sits bolt upright in his bed. His eyes are staring manically_.)

DOUGAL:- Ted, Ted! Wake up, Ted!

(FATHER TED _struggles into full wakefulness_.)

TED:- Astfgwl…. Hmmmumph…. What is it, Dougal?

DOUGAL:- You're never going to believe this, Ted. I've just had this dream. You know really strange things happen in dreams that nobody in their right mind is ever going to believe? Well… and this is really going to get you, you'll laugh… I dreamt I was a priest in this really weird religion. Sort of dressed in black with this little white round collar.

TED:- Dougal…

DOUGAL:- And the daft things this religion believed in. Sure, you wouldn't believe it, Ted. Like you eat this little wafer and sip the wine, and it magically becomes the God's body and blood…

TED:- Dougal…

DOUGAL:- Sure, I know, Ted, daft things like that only happen in dreams! And this bit'll make you laugh, this God's mother runs the show from Heaven where she's sat up on a cloud listening to everyone's prayers and telling God what to do, and because she's his old mam, he's got to do it…

TED:- Dougal, that's not a dream….

DOUGAL:- And just wait till I get onto the bits about what they think is a sin, those'll _really_ slay you…

TED:- Dougal… that's not a dream. It's not. We are priests. And that's what we believe in.

DOUGAL (looking confused) :- No kidding, Ted?

TED (_firmly_):- No kidding, Dougal.

DOUGAL:- And the bits about the old fella in Rome, the German lad, fought for Hitler before he got the calling?

TED (_even more firmly_):- He exists, Dougal. He's the Pope.

Dougal:- Oh.

_(Cue the Divine Comedy, __**Songs of Love**__, and opening credits.)_

_**(Scene: **__ the Parochial House, Craggy Island. The living room. FATHER TED CRILLY and FATHER DOUGAL MAGUIRE are having breakfast, in their case toast, breakfast cereal, and tea. FATHER JACK HACKETT is also having breakfast. Mrs. DOYLE is coaxing him into eating some cornflakes, as they're good for him. As she turns her back, he contemptuously flings the milk over his shoulder with a sneer. He produces a bottle of Paddy Powers, and smiles benignly as he pours whiskey over his breakfast cereal. The telephone rings. As FATHER DOUGAL is nearest, he answers it.)_

DOUGAL:- Hello, the parochial house, Craggy Island, Father Dougal Maguire speaking?

_(FATHER TED CRILLY nods in approval. It has taken _**ages**_ to train Dougal to answer the phone properly. Lesson One involved holding the receiver right side up, and took some time to master)_

DOUGAL (listening):- Ah, 'tis yourself, Len! Sure, I'll get him, Len!

_(FATHER TED rushes to the phone. He wrests it from DOUGAL. He is just in time to hear: )_

BISHOP LEONARD BRENNAN:- And don't you DARE call me "Len", y'wee gobshite! It's "Your Grace" from the likes of you!

TED (_putting on the nervous, fawning, voice he always uses to the Bishop_):- er… good morning, your Grace. Father Ted Crilly here. How are you this morning?

BISHOP LEN:- I'll be blunt with you, Crilly. As I've had to break off from some important business to speak to you. I'll also be quick. I'm sending you a fourth priest, temporarily.

TED _(knowing no good has ever come of a fourth priest being sent to the Island)_:- Oh.. that's kind of you, Your Grace… who is he?

BISHOP LEN:- He's an Army chaplain, Crilly. He's done some quite sterling work in the military, quite commendable. But his commanding officer and the Chaplain-General both consider he's overdue a break and some leave to be spent in a tranquil, peaceful, place where nothing ever happens. It will be your Christian duty to provide him with peace and tranquility, d'you hear me, Crilly? You are to be accommodating and understanding, as he has a couple of odd little quirks from his time in the military. Put into plain talking - do _not_ feck it up, as you have a gift for doing, Crilly, d'you hear me? He'll be with you later today. That's all.

TED:- Your grace, I…

BISHOP LEN (_emphatically_) Goodbye, Crilly. (ends call)

_(BISHOP LEN turns away from the phone and back to that important Church business. Through the clouds of smoke, we see three other Bishops, in purple shirt-fronts, and a Cardinal in red, sitting around a poker table. All are smoking, the CARDINAL has a massive cigar on the go and is wearing a green visor as well as his red cap of office. Each has a stack of poker chips in front of him and there is a large pot in the centre. LEN resumes his place.)_

THE CARDINAL (dealing cards) . OK, boys, Texas hold'em, aces low, jokers wild. Where's O'Madden? He took a hammering on the last hand. Must have hurt, huh?

_(There is a distant shot and the thud of a falling body. The players briefly look up, then back to their cards.)_

THE CARDINAL (_resigned_) :- Now I've got to appoint a new bishop in Westmeath. But that's life, guys.

_(Scene: back in the living room at the Parochial House. FATHER TED replaces the telephone in its cradle and shakes his head sorrowfully. He is looking grave and serious. DOUGAL, FATHER JACK and Mrs. DOYLE all look at him.)_

Mrs. DOYLE (_concerned_):- Bad news, Father?

TED:- You'll need to put another teacup out, Mrs. Doyle, as Bishop Brennan is sending us a guest for a few weeks.

(Mrs. DOYLE _goes into orgasmic ecstasies at the thought of there being another tea-drinker in the house. TED continues.)_

TED:- It's another priest. Now, and this is very important, he's an army chaplain, and the poor chap's being sent here for some rest and quiet. Lord knows what terrible sights he might have seen, ministering to the fallen on the battlefield and being a witness to things that, God willing, we shall never see as priests.

DOUGAL:- What, like bodies and bits of bodies and arms and legs and everything flying through the air?

TED (sharply) _all that sort of thing, yes, Dougal! _

DOUGAL:- And performing the last rites to fellas who've had their heads shot off and their insides hanging out and blood everywhere…

TED:- I'm _sure_ our guest would not care to be reminded, Dougal! For all we know the poor man has PTSD.

DOUGAL:- There was this fillum. _**Saving Private Ryan**_. It was great, Ted. All blood and gore, and this lad got his arms blown right off…

TED (_sharp_):- Just don't mention it in front of our guest, Dougal! It's a fair bet he has the PTSD.

Mrs. DOYLE (_looking perplexed_) I thought only wimmin got that, Father? Should I lay in some… women's intimate things… and some evening primrose oil?

TED (_at first equally perplexed, and then realizing. He laughs and gets patronizing to _Mrs. DOYLE):- Oh, no, no, no, no, Mrs. Doyle. _You're_ thinking of the old PMT there. No, that _is_ a wimmin's thing. (_he breathes_) Thanks be to God. (_normal voice_) No, Mrs. Doyle, this is PTSD. _Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder_. It comes on a fella when he's seen something so sickening, so disgusting, so shocking and horrifying and stomach-turning that it stays with him the rest of his life and every so often, he'll relive it as if it's happening again.

DOUGAL (_wisely_):- Ah, I see what you mean, Ted. Like the Eoin Love Christmas TV Special. The one with the Nolan Sisters in it.

TED:- This is _worse_, Dougal!

(DOUGAL's _mouth opens and his jaw drops in horror at just how low mankind can fall_).

TED: But anyway, our guest will be here soon, and everyone should be on their best behaviour. Including you, Jack. For all we know it might be shell-shock that he's suffering from. Poor fellow must need the rest!

(**Scene and FX:- **_As TED turns away to leave the room, the large bay window suddenly explodes inwards in a shower of glass and splintered wood. There is an ear-splitting explosion. A dark sinister figure abseils in on a rope, landing with both feet squarely in TED's chest, bowling him over the back of the sofa. _

_Think SAS at Iranian Embassy for the references and costume. _

_The newcomer lands squarely in the middle of the room. He is dressed all in black, right down to the black hood and the gas-mask. On top of SAS walking-out dress, he wears a white clerical collar and the purple rank-badges of an Army chaplain. _

_As TED staggers to his feet, it begins to dawn on him exactly _**which**_ Army regiment the new priest was chaplain to. _

CAPTAIN THE REVEREND WIGAN-WALLGATE (extending a hand):- Ah, you must be Father Crilly!

(_Ted gingerly takes his hand. The handshake becomes a judo move and Ted is flung over Wigan-Wallgate's shoulder to land awkwardly in an armchair. FATHER JACK leers, laughs and applauds. This is entertainment!)_

WIGAN-WALLGATE (anxious):- Sorry about that, old man, force of habit!

_TED gets groggily to his feet. They shake hands, more conventionally. Then W-W's attention is seized._

W-W:- And who is _this_ lovely creature, set on Earth to slake the thirsts of men? (_Mrs. Doyle preens, flattered_.) I'll have two sugars, please!

_TED and DOUGAL look at each other, and then at the wreckage of the window. The unspoken thought is_ What has Len Brennan wished on us _this_ time?

AND SO WE GO TO THE COMMERCIALS….END OF PART ONE.


	2. Enter Father WiganWallgate

AND SO WE GO TO THE COMMERCIALS….END OF PART ONE. (_Run FATHER TED "end of part one" cue card and "Songs of Love" guitar break) _

(**VOICEOVER, OVER ALLURING PICTURES OF THE GOODS:-) "Father Ted" is sponsored by Benson and Hedges cigarettes, the Irish Whiskey Distillers Association, Tetley Tea, and "Whizzo" rollerblades.**

**________________________________-**

(_Run FATHER TED "Part Two" cue card and "Songs of Love" guitar break) _

_**(Scene: **__the village high street, Craggy Island. _FATHER TED_ and _CAPTAIN THE REVEREND WIGAN-WALLGATE _are proceeding down it. The Captain has changed into more usual Army clothing, a Captain's khaki-green walking –out uniform, again with dog-collar, purple rank epaulettes, and an obvious crucifix. TED is showing him the sights and introducing him to people.) _

W-W:- Probably unsporting of me to ask, Ted, and I realize with my being British we're on opposite sides of the line here, but is there much of an IRA presence here? You don't need to answer that if…

TED (jocular):- Oh no, Jeysus no! Being on an island as we are, all that sort of thing is pretty much remote and nobody bothers with it very much. It's all, you know, going on at the very other end of the mainland! (_giggles, nervously_).

W-W (interested):- So there isn't a Craggy Island Brigade of the IRA?

TED (shifty):- Well, as a matter of fact there is, but….. _(He indicates a very decrepit old man in a wheelchair, attended by a nurse. He cannot be much younger than ninety.)…_ that's him over there. The Craggy Island Brigade. (_W-W looks at him, interestedly. The old man picks up vigour and alertness and recognizes the uniform_.)

THE CRAGGY ISLAND BRIGADE OF THE (OFFICIAL) IRA ( _weakly shakes his stick and croaks_):- Feck off, you Brit bastard! (_This effort is too much for him and he subsides into his wheelchair, coughing. The NURSE looks disapprovingly at the two priests_.)

NURSE (reproachfully):- _Now _look what you made him do!

(_W-W cheerfully makes a blessing over him_.)

TED:- A sad story, Father. As you know we're quite remote out here and news from Dublin takes a wee while to reach us. Old Paddy O'Halloran over there in the wheelchair, way back in 1916 he got the news of the Easter Rising in Dublin. Well, he ran to join the fighting, you can't fault him there, but the news got here so late it was August Bank Holiday before he got to Dublin, so. The fighting was over by then. That's why nobody speaks of the August Bank Holiday Rising, you see, but he did his best to make it happen. By then nobody wanted to know, so, and the good people of Dublin had a whip-round to send him straight back. He's never really got over the disappointment, poor chap.

W-W:- But surely you had the War of Independence in 1921?

TED (sighs, deeply) Another little disappointment there for Paddy. It never really got this far. No Protestants here, you see. And Paddy couldn't get a boat to the mainland for love or money. The ferry service was badly disrupted. And where everyone else got the Black and Tans, we had to make do with a Grey and Beige. His heart wasn't really in it, you see.

(_Their tour of the island has taken them to the Village Shop. There are muffled sounds of argument. TED stops.)_

TED:- Let's look in on John and Mary. They run the shop. A lovely couple. Lovely.

_(Scene: inside the village shop. JOHN and MARY are trying to build a display pyramid made up of cans of beans. Their co-operation in the task is not good. Such a pyramid as hey have managed is about four feet tall and sadly mis-shapen. Tempers are fraying.)_

MARY _(pissed off_):- give it here, you useless donkey-fisted fecker! _(She ungraciously grabs a tin. John grabs it back.)_

JOHN _(frayed to the point of unravelling) _Will ye stop snatching, you ungracious bloody bitch!

MARY:- So _I'm_ the problem, y' sorry limp prick?

JOHN:- Ach, if you wiz a cow, we'd never be wanting for vinegar, y'sour-titted ould bag!

_(MARY clouts JOHN heavily with a tin of beans. He slumps back into the sorry excuse for a pyramid and is buried among the falling cans. At this moment the two priests walk in. MARY is aghast the priests have seen her hit him. FATHER TED is astonished and shocked. FATHER WIGAN-WALLGATE steps forward.)_

FATHER W-W (_with easy authority_). Father Crilly tells me you're one of the most happily-married couples he knows. _(John gets up groaning from the mess of tins. He too looks aghast. The couple try to make their usual pretence of being a loving married partnership, but their hearts aren't in it.)_ Now we've obviously visited at a difficult time, but please let me assure you that every marriage, even the happiest, has its little moments of discord and strife. We wouldn't be human if little marital tiffs never happened.

_(JOHN and MARY see a way out. Their smiles become less uncertain and take on a pretence of happiness and harmony. They hold hands. FATHER TED looks reassured by his brother priest's words of wisdom. FATHER W-W turns to him.)_

FATHER W-W:- Father Crilly, I'm not trying to take your parish over, you understand, but it occurs to me that as a priest and a neutral outsider, I might be best placed here to help John and Mary negociate a settlement to their marital dispute, if you'd permit? I do a lot of marriage guidance work in Army married quarters, you see. You'd be _surprised_ the bother married soldiers and their wives can get into!

TED (_relieved_):- Ah, good idea, Father. Well, perhaps if I just step out of the door, so, for a wee while, and leave you to it?

_(TED leaves the shop. He is heard to say to himself:-)_

TED:- Not a bad priest, this fellow. Perhaps I misjudged him. First impressions, and all that…

_(Scene: Back in the shop. JOHN has just pulled himself to his feet. FATHER W-W glares at both of them. He shakes his head and tuts.)_

FATHER W-W:- What a _bloody _sorry display! What a shower!

_(JOHN and MARY hang their heads in shame.)_

FATHER W-W:- I mean, whatever were you thinking, girl! Hitting your husband like that. I don't know. _(She hangs her head in shame and embarrassment). _For goodness sake, woman, you hit him like THIS!

_(He suddenly swings his fist in a short accurate arc and pitches JOHN back into the mess of fallen tins again.)_

FATHER W-W:- I mean, a round-arm swing like that, you're telegraphing it from _miles _away! Short, sharp, from the shoulder and _get your weight behind it,_ girl!

_(JOHN staggers to his feet again.)_

FATHER W-W:- Now you try it, girl! _(She delivers a straight left to JOHN, who falls again.) _Well done, good effort! Now you, John. You're not going to let her get away with THAT, are you?

_(Scene: outside the shop. FATHER TED hears the sounds of fighting and things crashing and breaking. He looks worried for a moment, then shrugs. The English priest seemed to know his business, after all. After an interval, _FATHER W-W:- walks briskly out, dusting his hands. _Things have gone quiet inside_._)_

FATHER W-W (_cheerfully_):- all sorted out, Ted. I had them role-play a little psychodrama. It's all the rage in marriage guidance counseling these days! _(They walk on together)_

_(SCENE: Inside the partially wrecked shop. JOHN and MARY are each sporting a lot more bruises, black eyes, cuts and grazes. But something different is happening.)_

MARY:- Bastard!

JOHN:- Whore's get!

MARY (strangely mellow):- John, y'great gobshite. Remember when we first got married and we talked about starting a family?

_(She snuggles to him. He looks suspicious, but doesn't pull away)_

JOHN:- What, y'want me to.. with _you_, you scraggly oul' bitch?

MARY: Let's make a baby, ye useless limp-dicked fecker!

JOHN:- I'll show you how limp it is, y'horse-collared oul' mare!

_(He gets to his feet and changes the sign on the door to CLOSED. It is possible something has healed between them. At least for the moment, and maybe not completely. The scene fades out on their helping each other upstairs, still swearing and insulting each other whilst showing a little physical interest. )_

_**( **__Fade in__** Scene: **__the Parochial House, Craggy Island. The living room. MRS DOYLE is handing out cups of tea. She cannot believe how much the English priest is capable of drinking. While TED and DOUGAL are drinking from normally-sized cups, FATHER W-W is drinking from an abnormally large mug. This should be large, like a ceramic bucket with a mug-handle on one side. It should carry the SAS Winged Dagger insignia on the outside.)_

FATHER W-W (_offering his abnormally large cup for a refill_) Mrs Doyle, you spoil me!

_(MRS DOYLE displays great pleasure at having a priest in the house who actually drinks every cup of tea she offers. She hasn't yet had to use her catchphrase. Not even once.)_

MRS DOYLE _(ecstatically happy and fulfilled in her life's purpose)_ :- Just this one more, Father, and I'm going to have to refill the urn! Again!

FATHER JACK HACKETT:- Drink! Girls! Feck! Drink! Arsebiscuits! M-16 Assault rifles!

FATHER TED (interested):- Now there's a new word, Father!

FATHER JACK HACKETT:- Drink! Girls! Feck! Drink! General-Purpose Machine-gun! Drink!

FATHER TED (thoughtful):- now I wonder where he's getting all these new words from?

_(FATHER WIGAN-WALLLGATE looks shifty for an instant and tries not to catch Ted's eye. He resumes his tea. He has nearly emptied the bucket again. The camera pans to an unheeded newspaper on the table, where DOUGAL has extracted the childrens' puzzle page and cartoons and abandoned the rest as uninteresting It is the __**Craggy Island Examiner**__. The front page headline reads _**SHORTAGE OF TEA! TEA FAMINE ABOUT TO HIT CRAGGY ISLAND SHOCK! Local housewives in stockpiling frenzy, as fights erupt over the last boxes of teabags. **_The photo shows Mrs DOYLE practically strangling another middle-aged woman, in a shocking episode of tea-rage. )_

_On this note, this __**Father Ted**__ special episode moves to End of Part two. Cue the Divine Comedy to play the "Songs of Love" guitar break over cue-card…_

_Everything will resolve itself in Part Three, where the tea shortage has terrible effects. _


	3. It shouldn't happen to a Bishop

This completes the episode. Enjoy!

_(SCENE:- The Parochial House living room. The window has been boarded up, inexpertly, using thick cellophane and gaffer tape. FATHER W-W, FATHER DOUGAL, and FATHER JACK HACKETT are glued to an (unseen) TV screen. The soundtrack is one of battle, combat, loud explosions, small-arms fire, and screams. FATHER JACK in particular has a look of evil rapture on his face and is incoherently cheering the action. FATHER TED periodically looks over, winces in pain and disgust, and looks away again. FATHER W-W is holding the remote and providing a commentary.)_

FATHER WIGAN-WALLGATE:- Absolutely _cracking_ film, _**Saving Private Ryan.**_ I find you just can't beat it for authenticity and the special effects work is absolutely _sterling_. You'd have thought that poor chap had had his guts blown out for real, wouldn't you? But if I freeze-frame the action and we go through it frame by frame, I can talk you through the sequence of events for when a chap gets a high-velocity round through the stomach. It's really quite unpleasant, jolly messy for the medics to sort out,. Though these chaps can work miracles these days….

_(FATHER TED dry-heaves. It is beginning to get to him. Mrs DOYLE wheels the tea-trolley in.)_

MRS DOYLE:- Cup of tea, Father? Go on, go on, go on. You know you want to…

FATHER W-W _(proffers bucket with a handle on):- _Mrs Doyle, you're an absolute bloody life-saver! You'll join me in a cup, Ted, Dougal?

_(At this point we should be aware a subtle change is happening to TED and DOUGAL. Over the previous day or two, they have been forced to join their guest in drinking so much tea that their skins are turning a visible orange-brown colour. They are beginning to look like a minor celebrity with a sunbed addiction – think David Dickinson or a Big Brother contestant - , or failing that, they're at least on the way to looking like Lindow Man after he was excavated from the bog. Mrs DOYLE is in tea-making heaven. Never in her life has she poured out so much to so few. However, one thing mars her happiness.)_

MRS DOYLE (slight concern):- I don't want to worry you, Father, but there might be a slight problem. Would you come into the kitchen with me, so?

FATHER TED:- (_relieved to get away from the film)_ Of course, Mrs Doyle!

_(As they pass into the kitchen, he hears:-)_

FATHER W-W:- Of course, when we've finished this film, I've got Peckinpah's _**Cross of Iron. **_1944, a platoon of German squaddies know the war's lost, but they have no option other than to keep on fighting. Quite _stupendously_ violent. There's a key scene where a Jerry soldier falls off the back of a lorry, but do they bother to stop to pick him up? No, the other lorries just keep rolling over the poor soul until he's mashed into the mud and _quite _flattened out. But that's Jerry for you…

_(TED gratefully closes the kitchen door behind him.)_

FATHER TED:- So what's the problem, Mrs Doyle?

_(The camera follows his eye as he scans the shelves. Most are piled high with tea in every conceivable type and form. Indian, Chinese, Kenyan, Lapsang Souchang, Earl Grey, in powder, leaf, square, round, pyramidical and polyhedral teabag form. One large box advertises the NEW!!!! Duodecahedronal teabag that will allow hot water to permeate through its twenty sides, and knock the shite out of any teabag you've tried before. But Ted's expert eye spots tell-tale gaps in the shelves where usually there is tea. He recalls the lead article in the __**Examiner**__, and frowns. Mrs Doyle looks worried and wrings her hands.) _

MRS DOYLE _(controlling her hysteria_):- Father, I didn't want to say it in front of the others, but I'm frightened we're going to run out of tea! And there's none to be had anywhere!

FATHER TED (stern and calm):- How many days' supply do you think we have, Mrs Doyle?

MRS DOYLE _( flapping slightly, one step this side of hysteria) :- _Normally, Father, I'd say about a fortnight, but at the rate that English priest is drinking it, so, I'd say two days!

FATHER TED:- For sure. If there's one race on the face of this planet that drinks more tea than the Irish, it's the British. And their Army runs on it. Apparently it's their remedy for everything except a gaping stomach wound. And you wouldn't put it past them even then!

MRS DOYLE _(stunned)_:- I never thought _anyone_ on this planet drank more tea than the Irish!

FATHER TED _(sighs, reflectively):- _They've even used it as a _weapon_, Mrs Doyle. Back in World War Two we had to import all our tea through the British. They wanted a concession off deValera, and quite properly, Dev was telling them where to put it. And he didn't mince his words, Mrs Doyle, I'm telling you!

MRS DOYLE (misty-eyed) A great leader, so, and a true Irish patriot, mr deValera! So he told Churchill himself to feck off?

FATHER TED: In as many words, yes. Then Winston played dirty. He… _(TED pauses, shivering as if relating a tale of great horror and sadistic evil-doing)_ . cut off our country's tea supplies…. for a month. Dev had no option, poor man. He had to give the British what they wanted. ** (1)**

(_At this point we have a slightly surreal "flashback" in black and white. In the style of a wartime public information movie:_

VOICEOVER:- Irish Pathé Newsreels for August 1941. In the news this month: the Prime Minister, Eamonn de Valera, has been involved in top-level diplomatic talks with the combatants in that wee bit of a war that's going on in Europe.

_(Cut to film of DEV, a small, slight, hunched man in dark glasses wearing his trademark trilby hat, even indoors. He is having an animated conversation on the phone.) _

VOICEOVER:- In a determined bid to save Ireland's neutrality, Mr deValera has been talking tough diplomatic language with his fellow heads of government.

_(DEV is seen to jump as one of two phones on his desk rings. He picks it up. The film goes to split-screen: Winston Churchill appears, wreathed in cigar smoke, with a very large glass of brandy on the desk next to him.)_

CHURCHILL:- Eamonn, we're having a _lovely_ war. We're just waiting for you to join us. You are an Empire dominion, after all, and all the rest have joined in: India, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, South Africa…

DEV _(exasperated):-_ How many times have I got to say it, Winston? We're staying neutral. So feck off, you Brit bastard!

Churchill (_warningly_) I'll cut the tea supplies again, Eamonn…

_(The other phone on Dev's desk rings. He picks it up.)_

DEV: Taoiseach's residence, the Prime Minister speaking? Oh jayzuz, it's yourself.

_(The screen now becomes a rather suffocating three-way split between DEV, CHURCHILL and HERMANN GOERING. Both the fat politicians squeeze in from the outside, crushing Dev in between them. Think the little guy in the middle of the Three Tenors. )_

GOERING: Herr deValera, have you paid any thought to our reasonable proposal that German forces are invited in to Ireland, to protect you from the nasty evil British? And that my Luftwaffe the forward bases should have, so as to bomb Britain more effectively?

CHURCHILL:- I heard that!

GOERING:- Piss off, Vinston!

_(with a mighty effort and both elbows, DEV creates room for himself in the centre of the picture. He still has a phone to each ear.)_

DEV (_angry_):- Why don't the two of you gobshites just FECK OFF? I'm telling you, we're neutral and that's the end of it!"

GOERING (_warningly_):- I'll bomb Dublin again… **(2)**

VOICEOVER:- In other news, a two-headed sheep has been born on Craggy Island, but then, you expect that sort of thing out there….

_(We fade back into colour as TED and MRS DOYLE break out of a shared reverie about DEV, the great wartime leader.) _

MRS DOYLE _(contemplating Albion's perfidy)_ :- And the English Father out there wants his tea, Father. There will be trouble if he goes without, do you think?

FATHER TED:- Oh Jayzus, for sure there will be, yes. We'd better hope supplies are resumed, mrs Doyle.

_(They walk back into the living room. DOUGAL tries to grab TED's attention.)_

DOUGAL (excited):- Ted! Ted! We're looking at this other fillum, _**Cross of Iron**_. You'll never guess, but they found all these Russian women soldiers and some of them was in the bath, in the nip! And one of the German fellas, well, he got frisky, and you'll never guess what this Russian woman did with a knife…

_(TED looks at the TV screen. Then he just looks sick. MRS DOYLE looks too. A grin spreads across her face.)_

MRS DOYLE (_reflective_):- If only I'd thought to do that to Mr Doyle. Sure, I'd have been spared a lot!

_(Scene fades out. We then see, in vision only, events from the next two days: FATHER W-W with a machine-gun in front of him on a table, lecturing DOUGAL and JACK HACKETT on its finer points. The bucket of tea is ever-present. We cut, in between every vignette, to the kitchen shelves, their ever-diminishing tea stocks, and a more worried-looking Mrs DOYLE. FATHER W-W is seen in the parochial house garden, teaching DOUGAL and JACK HACKETT how to throw hand-grenades. One narrowly misses FATHER TED as he comes round a corner of the house. He is seen staggering away from the blast. Again the tea-bucket is omnipresent. DOUGAL and JACK even get a bit of bayonet-practice in. The classic hanging dummies are both wearing bishops' purple shirt-fronts and clerical collars. Seeing this, TED taps Dougal on the shoulder, takes his rifle, and has a brief berserker fit, tearing the dummy to pieces while incoherently screaming LEN BRENNAN, YOU GREAT PILE OF SHITE! and similar devotional statements. With the dummy destroyed, he comes to his senses, coughs embarrassedly, and returns the rifle to DOUGAL. It is also clearly noticeable that all the enforced tea-drinking is turning their skins a deeper and deeper brown. But finally the shelves are empty… ) _

FATHER WIGAN-WALLGATE (_hands out cup to a very nervous looking Mrs DOYLE_): Another cup of your finest in there, if you will!

MRS DOYLE (_clearly unhappy and flinching_):- Father, I would so if I could. But there's no more tea!

_(A frozen tableau ensues. Even FATHER JACK stops and watches, looking nervous_)

FATHER W-W (_disbelieving_) No tea?

MRS DOYLE (_shakes head_):- No tea, father. There's none to be had on the Island for love nor money. Believe me I've tried…

_(She bursts into tears and runs out.) _

FATHER W-W (_talks largely to himself_) :- No tea. No bloody tea! Think, man. Be calm. Knowledge dispels fear. Somebody on this Island must have tea! Make operational plan. Rule of P's.

FATHER TED _(feeling the other side-effect of excessive tea-drinking, which mention of "P's" has brought uneasily to his bladder)_:- Speaking of which, if you'll just excuse me for a while, Father… _(TED rushes out. FATHER W-W seems not to notice) _

FATHER W-W:- Rule of P's. Planning and Preparation Prevent Piss-Poor Performance…

FATHER DOUGAL (_as his bladder hears the word "piss" and belatedly catches on_):- I'll just be gone a wee while, Father…. _(He rushes out. We hear his voice off-camera, desperate) :- _Ted, Ted! Will you be long in there?

FATHER W-W:- If anyone's got tea, you may be sure it's that bloody bleeding bishop! _(TED returns, looking physically relieved)._ Ted, did I tell you Len Brennan tried out as an Army chaplain? He didn't last five minutes! Our drill-sergeant, Canon "Brick Shithouse" O'Rourke, put us through a live-firing exercise where the drill was to deliver Last Rites while under enemy fire. The cowardly little shit was too scared to leave his fox-hole! Soiled his trousers, too!

FATHER TED (reflective):- Oh, _really_, Father? _Do_ go on!

FATHER W-W:- And now the little bastard's a Bishop! I bet if anyone's got tea, it's that little – what's the word round here, Ted?

FATHER TED (happy to oblige):- "Fecker", I believe.

FATHER W-W.:- Thank you Ted, I didn't want to offend anyone! That useless slimy little fecker Len Brennan must have tea! Well, I'm going to get some off him!

_(He races out of the room. A little later he returns in full SAS combat order, with clerical collar and crucifix) _

FATHER W-W:- If anyone asks, I'm paying my respects at the Bishop's Palace. _(He hoists a bazooka up onto his shoulder alongside an assault rifle, and leaves, full of purpose._

FATHER DOUGAL (_concerned)_ :- Ted, do we tell the Garda that a heavily armed commando's on his way to kill the bishop?

FATHER TED:- Our duty as Christians, as priests, as good citizens, demands that we should. _(He gently restrains DOUGAL as he lifts the telephone off its receiver)._ But we can give it twenty minutes first. Give the fella a good start Let's call it an hour, to be sure.

_(FADE OUT. We fade into the next SCENE which is the parlour at A Bishop's Palace. But not Len Brennan's. This Bishop is elderly, saintly, kind, thoughtful, reflective, considerate, prayerful, decent. Everything LEN isn't. He is in earnest conversation with a trio of priests, one young, one middle-aged, one elderly in a wheelchair, who are everything the Craggy Island boys are not. In short, something horrible is going to happen to four people who don't deserve it and this is the set-up)_

THE YOUNG PRIEST _(possibly also played by Ardhal O'Hanlon, as an anti-Dougal)_ :- Your Grace, it's really quite good of you to invite us over from Clement Island to this audience with you.

THE BISHOP (blessing him) Think nothing of it, my boy. When you passed out of the seminary at Blackrock with the highest marks in your class, I was privileged to get you!

_(The middle-aged and older priests nod appreciatively. They sedately sip their sherry)_

THE BISHOP:- I was thinking we could discuss what the Church Fathers had to say on the subject of divine redemption and intervention. Now the good Professor Koenig says in….

_(He gets no further. Suddenly a window breaks with a deceptively tiny tinkle. They all look round curiously at the source of the noise. Two or three round smoking cylinders are pushed in and land on the carpet. Then all Hell breaks loose as smoke bombs and percussion grenades go off. As the four clerics start to cough and choke, all the windows down one side of the parlour explode inwards under the weight of SAS men swinging in on ropes. The Bishop ends up with several guns to his head as the three priests are manhandled to the floor and forced to adopt the position: that is, face down with hands behind the head.)_

SAS MAN # 1:- Where is he? Where the feck is he?

THE BISHOP:- Where is _who_, exactly?

SAS MAN #1:- We got reports one of us had gone rogue and was out to kill a Bishop! Man dressed like us. Right now he'll be out there holding a gun to some Bishop's head…oh… _(realizes). _And w've got to stop him.

SAS OFFICER:- Take it easy, Flanagan, that _is_ the Bishop.

_(FLANAGAN lowers his gun, sheepishly. His officer is aware something is wrong. He lowers he gasmask and raises his hood.) _

SAS OFFICER:- We had a report, your Grace, that our regimental chaplain had gone rogue and was out to kill a Bishop. You _are_ Bishop Len Brennan, aren't you?

THE BISHOP (chuckles, delightedly). I'm afraid there's been another one of those little mix-ups. I'm Bishop Leo Brannan. People confuse us all the time!

_(The SAS men look at each other and beat a hasty retreat)_

SAS OFFICER (apologetic) Sorry you've been troubled, your Grace! _(the SAS departs, more quietly than it arrived)_

THE BISHOP:- So somebody's out to kill Len Brennan. (_pauses). _Can't say I'm surprised.

THE OLDEST PRIEST:- That gobshite?

_(FADE OUT. FADE INTO Len Brennan's Bishop's Palace. The throne room. LEN BRENNAN is on his knees with a gun pressed into his forehead. He is panicking.)_

FATHER WIGAN-WALLGATE (_freaking out_):- the TEA, Brennan! For the last time, you greasy little bastard, where do you keep the TEA?

BISHOP LEN (semi-hysterical):- Sweet Jesus, we don't have any tea! Nobody's got any tea! There's a shortage of it!

_(FATHER W-W clicks the safety catch. The sound is low and ominous. Beads of sweat stand out on BISHOP LEN's brow. At this moment a bullhorn sounds from outside.)_

_(SCENE: Outside the Bishop's Palace. A shattered window marks where Father W-W made his entrance. TED, DOUGAL and JACK are standing there with Sergeant Thornton of the Garda. They are not the only ones: the SAS squad that just raided he wrong bishop's palace will turn up and sheepishly deploy for action here, under the eagle eye of the Director-General of Special Forces, who has just arrived to talk Father W-W into giving himself up. I see somebody with the authority and gravitas of PATRICK STEWART playing this role, which opens up a new vein of jokes._

_Beside the General, who has the bullhorn, is another army chaplain, but this one is a thick-set military brute of a man who wears a clerical collar and sergeant's stripes. His purpose will soon become clear.)_

THE GENERAL (Patrick Stewart):- Captain Wigan-Wallgate. Do you hear me? This is General deFleur **(3)** speaking. You know my voice. I am ordering you to let the bishop go and give yourself up!

_(There is no reply)_

FATHER DOUGAL:- you didn't say the words. You know, your little catchphrase.

THE GENERAL:- I'm sorry?

DOUGAL:- You know, "_make it so!"_ Like on the TV.

THE GENERAL _(despairing)_ Sweet mother of God, not this again! _(he briefly puts his head in his hands, TED pushes DOUGAL aside. He SERGEANT PRIEST takes the bullhorn, though he scarcely needs it. His voice carries.)_

SERGEANT CANON O'ROURKE:- You know me, Mr Wigan-Wallgate! I was your Drill Sergeant at the military seminary, remember? Yew young recruit priests used to call me "Brick Shithouse", though never to my face! And I tell you what! If you is not down those stairs and out of that building in FIVE SECONDS, you 'orrible sorry idle priest, I will be down on YEW like all the bleedin' bricks in the shithouse wall all at once, do I make myself UNDERSTOOD!"

_(Still no reply)_

FATHER TED (diffident). General? Sergeant? Let me try? Please?

_(He brandishes the SAS tea-bucket. In his other hand he has three or four teabags.)_

FATHER TED:- This should make him docile.

DOUGAL:- Where did you get the tea, Ted?

FATHER TED:- Sergeant Thornton had an emergency supply. It's only Earl Grey _(The General flinches again at another Jean-Luc Picard reference)_ but it'll have to do. Do you soldiers have any hot water and milk?

(_A bucket of tea is poured. FATHER TED walks coolly into the palace. A minute or two later, he walks out again, leading FATHER W-W like a rat behind the Pied Piper. A little after that, LEN BRENNAN staggers out. Gardai and an ambulance crew rush to rescue him. When they get within smelling range, a certain holding of noses and checked recoil goes on, and a voice is heard saying "I think he's shat himself". THE SAS MEN rush to overpower and disarm Father W-W. However, they let him have his bucket of tea. The GENERAL and the SERGEANT shake hands with TED, who basks in the knowledge of a job well done. FADE OUT.)_

_(EPILOGUE:- The Parochial House Living Room, Craggy Island. Things are back to abnormal again with only three priests in the house. FATHER TED is paying off the glaziers who have repaired the big window, They shake hands and leave.)_

FATHER DOUGAL:- So what happens to the English fella now, Ted?

FATHER TED:- Oh, the General was moved to be lenient with him. Apparently he's been sent to be chaplain in a military prison. Safest place for him! A shame, though, he wasn't a bad man at heart. And he scared the living shite out of Len Brennan, didn't he so!

_(Ted laughs, then registers an empty chair, and pauses.)_

FATHER TED:- Has anyone seen Jack today?

_(At this point the newly repaired big window explodes inwards in a shower of glass and wood. A shape abseils in on a rope. Two boots hit TED square in the chest and send him flying over the back of the sofa. The intruder is dressed all in black with a clerical collar, hood, and gasmask. He takes the hood off, revealing the maniacally grinning face and wild-man-of-Borneo hair of FATHER JACK HACKETT. He thumbs-ups to the camera. _

_CUT TO END CREDITS.)_

* * *

**(1)** This actually happened. Ireland had no merchant marine of its own, and the British controlled most of the major tea-growing areas of the world. Ireland was therefore at the mercy of the British as regards one of its national drinks. In 1941, at he height of the U-boat campaign, Churchill ordered that all the imported tea be retained for British use and none be re-exported to neutral Ireland. This coincided with a demand that British military personnel interned in neutral Ireland be released instantly, against international law. At first Irish leader Eamonn deValera resisted, but after the terrible deprivation of a four-week tea famine, capitulated.

**(2)** This actually happened. Following a three-night blitz on Northern Irish cities, the republic sent every ambulance and fire engine it could across the border to Belfast and Derry and opened its hospitals to the casualties as a humanitarian gesture. Three nights later, Dublin was bombed heavily, it is thought as a warning to Ireland not to enter the British camp. The Germans blamed it on a navigational error – their bomber force was allegedly meant to hit Liverpool – but for an air force as good as the Luftwaffe to miss their target so completely they bombed the wrong country…. After the war, the German government paid full compensation to Ireland and apologised for a war crime.

** (3)** The commander of British Special Forces until quite recently was a General de la Rose. Another flower reference was inevitable.


End file.
